


Inked Fingertips

by Lobster_Ruu



Category: Berserk (Anime & Manga)
Genre: F/M, Golden Age (Berserk), Guts tries to write, Things May or May Not Happen, it's pretty cute all in all, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:11:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lobster_Ruu/pseuds/Lobster_Ruu
Summary: Sending a middle aged man to go read over some paper work and doesn't know how to read or write? You may be asking yourself... is this a good idea? Griffith is pretty adamant on sending the one and only Guts to look over something. Casca is the one in charge of being the caretaker and teaching the big oaf something very valuable.





	1. Prepare yourself for a hand cramp

Time felt slow as a lone figure sat under a tree. The sunlight above him played through the rustling leaves. Comfort and laziness seeped into his bones as he slowly blinked. The world was slowly coming together. Things were still hanging on even if it was being watched over by that shit head Griffith. He didn’t mind though. Griffith kept things in line, even if Guts didn’t want them to. Order was what the white haired male thrived on. 

A sigh escaped the calm male as he put an arm over his head. Even if he could just enjoy a little amount of alone time… His mind began to form images in his mind of happiness and comfort as a gust of wind rustled his hair. Here he felt at home. The world was perfect. 

As soon as his mind began to get hazy with sleep, a sound interrupted his afternoon nap. Footsteps. Ones he often recognized coming up towards him many a time. Fast and always angry. They could only be one person’s. His heart felt heavy with frustration as he begged for one second of peace. 

“GUTS!” A shrill voice exclaimed as a short female rounded up the hillside. Short cropped hair tucked against her cheeks in a unflattered way. Hair stood up on end as it seemed she never brushed her hair. As soon as her opal eyes met the napping Guts she writhed in anger. Cheeks flushed in annoyance as she kicked the still form in the torso. “WAKE UP YOU ASS!” 

Guts didn’t seem to be bothered by her attack and blew it off with a loud snore. Hopefully that would shake her off. It did the opposite. Casca knelt down and threw over his arm to reveal a peaceful looking Guts. The familiar scar on the front of his nose to the faint dustiness in his face. A man who hadn’t bathed in days. She, none to gracefully, pinched his nose as she waited for him to wake. 

Instead his eyes flicked open as a frown creased his face. “What?” He asked with a nasally accent. 

“Good morning your highness!” She gave an awkward curtsey as she stood up. “Griffith has been looking for you all morning. At least I know where you take your time off.” 

A disgruntled sigh escaped his lungs as he shook the sleepiness from his eyes. Casca stared at him just to see if the stubborn oaf would leave his spot. “You don’t have to babysit!” Guts exclaimed as he got up with a grunt. 

“Just doing Griffith a favor.” Casca walked away from the grumpy male. 

He rolled his eyes in annoyance as he grabbed his sword before he left his peaceful hilltop. “I’ll be back later.” He whispered to the tree as a promise. He would take his nap and no one was going to stop him. 

Griffith waited for him in the largest tent in the Band of the Hawk encampment. It seemed he didn’t mind showing off how much money he received from the previous battle. White hair ruffled with delight as soon as Guts entered the tent. 

“Guts I’ve been meaning to ask you a few questions.” 

“What now?” He replied with a grunt as he put his hands on the table in front of him. 

“Can you read?” As soon as those words left Griffith’s lips, there was an awkward silence. Guts looked up to stare into icy blue orbs that were filled with a strange emotion. 

“Not even a single sentence.” Guts seemed more or less curious as to why this was suddenly a question that came to the Commander’s mind. Why now? “Care to ask why?” 

“It’s just that I have to attend a signing of a couple of documents that the King has written out but I’m afraid I cannot attend.” Griffith displayed an act of frustration as he tossed a lock of hair behind his shoulder. If you’d call that frustration. “I was wondering if you could read over the documents and sign them for me?” 

Guts reacted quite quickly as he widened his eyes in surprisement. “ME?” He howled with disbelief. “Griffith I can’t read a damn thing! Why don’t you ask Casca or something…” The male fidgeted as he flipped through a few diagrams. Presumptively trying to preoccupy himself. Avoiding the question all together. Guts stared at him with annoyance as he crossed his arms. “You gonna answer?” He stated quickly as he tried to make the white haired captain answer the damn question. 

“I just thought… she could teach you. I have Casca doing some training while the document signing is going underway. I’m sure that she’ll be glad to give her advice.” 

“YOU MEAN YOU HAVEN’T TOLD HER?!” Guts exclaimed as he threw his arms up in a sign of lost cause. “Apparently you don’t know how pissed that woman can get!” 

“Apparently I do and I want you to learn to read.” Griffith stated calmly as he escorted Guts out of his tent. Already the tall male was causing a ruckus with the uproar. He thought it might be a good idea to get it over with as soon as possible. As long as he ordered Casca to agree to the terms, she wouldn’t fuss over it too much. 

They found her inside her tent looking over a few notes. Sweat dappled her skin as it looked like she had just gotten done training for the day. At least she would be somewhat tired from her excursion. “Casca!” Griffith smiled in greeting as he presented Guts, who did not look all that interested in this moment. Confused, the female examined what was about to happen. “I want you to teach Guts how to read! Please and thank you.” He gave a fast nod and hurriedly walked away. 

The female’s eyes widened in horror as Guts had the face of a person who didn’t give any two shits. Running out of the tent she realized that Griffith had simply disappeared. Losing her chance to give her opinion on the matter. She was left completely alone in this task with the dirtiest man in the camp. Guts couldn’t read? Go figure, he was a sleezebag anyway. 

Without saying another word she ran to her trunk and grabbed a few pieces of parchment, quill, and some ink to jot her teachings down. If this is what Griffith wanted, she would do it. Frowning in disappointment she slid her chair out and pointed the large male to sit down. Guts gave her a weird look but complied with a thick sigh filling the air. 

“Now don’t you start! We have work to do.” Casca slid over a piece of paper and readied the quill with a slight dip into the black liquid. “This is an A. Now you write it.” 

Guts complied as he took the quill from Casca’s fingertips and held it awkwardly in his hand. A misshapen A bled into the paper. Casca wasn’t one to congratulate someone on writing the first word in the alphabet but at least the bugger was trying. He seemed way to focused for this. 

“Now a B.” This went on for some time as Guts got accustomed to writing letters. His hand holding a tiny quill was almost laughable. By the time they got to the letter M, Casca had enough with his hand posture. Grabbing his fingers she twisted them around to hold the feather gently. It rested against the gap in his thumb. “Like that.” She urged as she continued the lesson. 

The alphabet was finished and now Guts practiced his penmanship. His face a mask of determination to conquer this. Now he sat at the table, copying every letter exactly how Casca wrote them. Her words were more well defined. There was an odd sense of nobility in the curvature of her strange letters. 

“How do you write cursive?” Guts asked as he dipped the quill back into the ink. 

“We haven’t gotten that far. We have to perfect the alphabet first. You’ll learn cursive soon.” Casca ordered as she gave Guts a slight wap on the head. He recoiled as he pursed his lips in concentration. Casca very much liked this side of Guts. When everything revolved around that one particular thing. He never let his attention drift elsewhere when there was something to be done. Although in many occasions he had gotten to her nerves. It happened more than she’d liked. 

His brutish behaviour, the inability to think of others, his pride, and don’t even get her started on his ego. She furrowed her eyebrows as she studied the male continue his lessons in peace. His eyes glared holes into the paper as he angrily tried to write the alphabet. He was rushing it. 

She intervened once more as she grabbed the quill from his hand. Shoving him slightly to the side of the chair, she sat next to him at quite an awkward stance. She ignored that and daintily dipped the tip into the bottle. Casca then dragged the quill over the lip of the well to stop some overspill. A quaint smile greeted her lips as she gently started writing out the alphabet. In oddly enough, mere perfect penmanship. Guts watched in fascination as she gracefully swirled the letters into each other. It wasn’t jotty or forced. She just flicked her wrist and then there it was. 

The male scratched his head in puzzlement as he watched her further. “You have to let the quill guide you. Feel how it moves against the paper and use it to our advantage. You’re forcing the tip to harshly into the paper making your words look sloppy. Let the quill do the work.” Casca gave the quill back to Guts who gave an observant nod. He did the same that Casca did and his letters turned out better than before. His lips cracked into a smile as he gave a triumphant chuckle. 

The day passed by and already Guts was tired from the constant berating coming from Casca. They decided to take a break. They each got a bowl of soup and sat down by a tree as they ate their lunch. “So, tell me. How did you learn to write?” 

“Griffith showed me a few things but mainly I was self taught. It’s a skill that isn’t easy to learn but you’ve mastered most of it in just a day.” 

“I’m a natural what can I say.” He gave a slight chuckle as he slurped down his soup. They both sat in silence as each one could find no words to say. It then occurred to Casca as she sat next to the burly male, she hadn’t slapped him in over 5 minutes. She let it slide with a sip of her soup. Delicious. 

“Tomorrow we learn how to pronounce.” 

“I know how to speak.” Guts retorted with a slight raise of his eyebrow. 

“Well of course you do but learning to say it aloud will help you and pronouncing things will help you.” Casca replied, in an odd calm demeanor. This was the time she’d slap him upside the head to show him a thing or too yet her hand stayed holding her soup bowl. It tremoured a little as she thought about it. Waving it off slightly, she turned back to Guts and gave a brief smile. “Griffith will be proud.” 

“Of course he would be.” The tall male replied coldly as he set his bowl down and leaned back against the tree. A content sigh left his lips as he was soon met with an odd air of sleepiness. He didn’t mind the feeling. Lifting one eye opened he took a look at Casca who sat close to him. It was odd not seeing the female getting angry. Her lips were parted slightly as she looked up into the sky. An odd look of serenity gifted her face. Guts blinked a couple of times to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. Realizing it wasn’t he uttered, “Huh.” 

Casca turned to see one eye open. Looking directly at her. Feeling attacked in some way she growled and slapped his cheek. Bouncing up to her normal height she looked down at the male with a prudish look in her eye. “Bright and early, in my tent tomorrow Guts. No exceptions.” 

“Mhm.” Guts felt his cheek sting slightly but he greeted it as a normal farewell from the girl. He watched her bustle off in a flourish. He felt oddly good about his accomplishment. Sooner rather than later he would be the smartest sword fighter in all of Midland. Well he hoped so anyway. Puffing out his chest with delight at the thought, he closed his eye and went back to a small nap. The gentle chirping of birds and the wind rustling the leaves, sent him off to dreamland. Where his mind was filled with ink stains and black tipped quills. Words filled his dreams, meaningless, but yet he appreciated what they had to hold. Even if he didn’t know what they said. 

The next morning came by rather quickly. The tall figure roamed the campsite with his sword in hand, perched atop his shoulder. A blade of grass between his lips. Judeau had taught him that. Casca’s tent was next to Griffith’s. Smaller, more petite. He opened the flap to see her sitting with her back to him. She wore only a tunic. A different color than her normal pinkish hued one. A deep green that seemed to soak into her skin. Blending her into the forest. 

He let out a small cough as she swung around. Her eyes blazed with annoyance as she saw him standing there. “You’re late.” Her lips curved into a frown. 

“But…. I’m here!” Guts shrugged as he chuckled softly. He propped his sword against the tent and entered into her abode. “So what are we doing today boss.” 

Casca pointed to her desk. Papers scattered the surface with all sorts of gibberish inked on. The male squinted as he stared at the prospect before him. “Oh right. You mentioned reading today.” He leafed through the pile and found a page with words scattered around. “P-r-o-b-a-b-l-y.” 

“Probably.” Casca followed back by sounding the word. 

“Prob..ably.” 

“There ya go. Try the next one.” 

“M-e-a-n-i-n-g-l-e-s-s…. Meaningless?” 

Casca gave a small nod and urged him to continue. Hours flew by and each word Guts spoke came out clearer and clearer. His voice growing raspier from the exertion of his sentences. His eyes pinned to each paper as he glossed through them with ease. This wasn’t so bad. 

“Re… re… refute? Is that how you say it?” His amber eyes flicked upwards to gaze at a sleeping Casca. Her arm hung over the side of the table. Bare feet planted into the rug. That same feeling from yesterday swept over him. His heart beat faster and faster. Thudding against his chest. 

The beast was asleep. No fuming smoke emanating from the nostrils. Eyes closed in a peaceful slumber. The strong animal no longer looked strange and defiant. She was calm, peaceful… 

“Calm.” Guts spoke aloud as a smile greeted his lips. “I’ll let you sleep boss. Time for me to go stretch my legs.” As soon as he got up, she shot up out of her chair and gripped his shirt by the neck. 

“SIT DOWN!” 

That was something he did not expect. His eyebrows furrowed as he gave a sigh. “So you weren’t sleeping?” 

Casca gave a grumble as she dragged him back to his chair and sat him down. “No. I was just… resting.” 

“R-e-s-t-i-n-g. Resting.” Guts gave a slight chuckle as he put his arms behind his head. 

Casca’s eyes widened with surprisement. “Don’t act so ridiculous. What about Enthusiasm. Since you have so much.” 

“E-n-t-h-u-s-i-a-s-m. Enthusiasm.” Guts slowly got out of his chair as Casca stared blankly ahead. “Can I go?” 

“Fine but be back here. We aren’t done yet.” Guts smiled with childish delight as he dashed out of the tent and into freedom. He ran to the tent that smelled of food. 

Casca sat in wonderment at the prospect before her. Only two days had passed and the man was doing better than she anticipated. She would consult Griffith on his progress but she was also worried about Guts. This ordeal he was going to undertake wasn’t a battle. He couldn’t enter it with his head filled with rage. He had to stay calm and present in the situation. She believed that he could do it. Guts had gotten this far. He wouldn’t let some words scribbled on paper get in the way. 

A few minutes passed and Guts entered her tent with two plates full of food. “The good news now that Griffith was crowned knight, we don’t have to starve anymore.” He gave Casca a cheeky grin as he handed her one of the plates. “I’m only going to do this once. Don’t expect anymore favors.” 

Casca politely accepted the food. To be quite frank, she hadn’t spent this much time with the big idiot in a long time. Since she had to spend a few days with him while he was getting over the stab wound from Griffith. That seemed like yesterday. His feverish dreams sent her mind whirling with resentment at the time. Why was he still alive? 

She paused for a second as her mind halted. What was she thinking… saying those things? Casca’s eyes wandered from her plate to the busy figure before her. He had grown. His muscles were defined with age. Even the ragged scar on his nose was ever so slowly beginning to fade. 

“Hey… I uh… wanted to ask you something,” Casca mumbled as she set her plate aside. “How did you get that scar?”

“Which one?” Guts asked as he laughed snarkily. “I mean this one I got last battle. Uhm this one from falling down a hill. Oh this one?” He pointed to his nose and paused for a moment as Casca nodded. “Oh uh… someone threw a… plate at my face.” 

“A plate? You’re joking.” Casca chuckled at the thought. Must’ve pissed someone off real bad to have a plate cut your nose. Then there was silence. An ever growing silence. Guts’ face paled. The nonchalant attitude he had displayed before was gone. Now he was timid and hiding a past that no one knew. Not even Griffith.

“My father.” His answer was short and no emotion showed in his voice. His eyes flickered as he set his empty plate on the ground. “Now what are we doing now, boss?” 

Her eyes wavered at the strange fellow before her. He had changed completely. It seemed weird that Guts even had a father. The way he acted seemed like he didn’t. He was withholding something. He was a barred gate. Locked from the inside. Not even she could get him to unlock it. “Follow me. We are going on a trip.”


	2. Secrets in the Tent

Casca and Guts managed to traverse the woods near the camp. Guts carried the supplies they needed while Casca scouted an ideal location. Her eyes searched the wooded area and settled on a fairly good sized opening in the middle of the forest. The grass did seem soft. She plopped down and waited for the lumbering figure to catch up. 

He set the supplies down and fell onto his back. A relaxed sigh escaped his lungs. “I didn’t know the boss would take me on a field trip.” 

“Only for a little bit.” She reached for the writing desk, a quill, an inkwell, and a quill. She handed them over to Guts and stood up. “I’m gonna leave you alone for a bit. Try your hand at writing a few things. Sentences, paragraphs, or maybe just writing words that come to mind as you sit there.” 

She stood behind a tree and examined the specimen before her. The first couple of minutes were silent. His eyes flicked too and fro, from tree to tree, trying to figure out what to write. This exercise was using the mind. Something Guts didn’t have much of or maybe he did and he just hid it all to well from Casca’s observance. A sigh escaped her mouth as she turned her back on the figure and marched towards the engulfing forest. Maybe she’d have a little adventure herself. It wasn’t all the time that she managed to find some peace and quiet all to herself. She’d cherish this small moment. 

Without a sword by her side she traversed the forest. Tree trunks brushed against her fingertips, the grass licked her boots, and the wind tickled her skin. The sun poked through holes in the treetops. Each breath that filled her lungs filled her with hope. Memories passed before her eyes as the forest began to swell in an explosion of green and brown. 

She hated her thoughts. Always dark and gloomy. Finding happiness was always a struggle. Now she felt free. She let the wind grab her arms as the sound of the trees echoed around the forest. The wind was rising. Swelling into a glorious song. A smile greeted her lips. 

“Finally,” she whispered. This is what peace felt like after so long of hiding. “Maybe… I’ll just fly away.” 

“Now why would you do that,” A voice grumbled behind her. She spun around quickly to see the big oaf leaning against a tree. All the supplies in his arms. His fingers smudged black with ink. He nodded upwards. “Looks like a storm is coming. Thought I’d come find you.” 

Casca felt a stinging heat burn her cheeks as she furrowed her brows in confusion. Catching her in a soft moment like that? And he had the nerve not to say a word? “Damn you.” Casca marched towards the camp without giving Guts a second look. 

“The least you could do is say thank you!” Guts followed her trail as he fumed in annoyance. So what, he saw Casca do something abnormal. Like really abnormal. Seeing her twirl around the forest like some fairy… it seemed strange. “So the almighty boss has feelings after all.” He chuckled to himself as he adjusted his writing utensils. “Definitely going to be using that as blackmail later on.” The male paused for a moment as he continued to think of Casca doing something so silly. His heart beat drummed against his ribcage. He shrugged it off, “the least you could do is help me out here!” 

~Later that day~

The storm swelled in a mighty gale as it struck all of Midland. The country, doused in a torrent of rain and lightning. Night had quickly fallen. Faster than normal due to the amount of dark clouds covering the sky. Tent flaps were closed, clothes were taken off lines, pots were tucked away, as the Band of the Hawk prepared for a ferocious summer storm. 

Casca paced her tent. Her living quarters neatly packed as she was trying to relax her mind. Everything was going a million miles an hour. What had happened earlier was sending her mind into a frenzy. She threw on an overly large tunic that went past her knees and slipped on her boots. She was going to find Guts and give him a piece of her mind. The female formulated a plan as she undid her tent flap. The rain was freezing as she instantly became soaked to the bone. Of course Guts’ tent had to be on the outskirts. Even though he was a General he hated having to be the center of attention. She growled in annoyance as she wiped raindrops from her eyelids. 

She found his tent rather quickly. Shaky fingers grabbed the entrance flap and shoved it aside. His abode was rather warm but maybe that was just from being out of the rain. Her eyes wandered in a fury as she searched for the male. He was asleep. Of course he was. Sleeping dolt who didn’t even hear the thunder clapping outside. 

“GUTS!” Casca yelled as she ran over to his cot and shoved him awake. “WAKE UP YOU ASS!” 

This time he seemed rather frightened at her strange appearance. Feeling the motion of his body he reached for a dagger that he held clenched in his fists. He raised it, only to see Casca’s bright eyes staring him down. “Next time, be more obvious it’s you and not someone else…” He threw the knife on his bed as he sighed heavily. "What do you want?" His voice raised in annoyance as he frowned.

Casca glared angrily down upon the raven haired man. His chest bare. The scars that traversed his body were quite numerous. Her eyes widened with surprisement. Cheeks flushed as she cleared her throat, “I-I just came to … talk with you.” She avoided his gaze. Arms crossed as she huddled in the corner. 

He gave Casca a weird look. He could see her shivering from the cold. The strange item of clothing clung to her body. Giving her curves that, he had seen before, existed on the girl. Why on earth? He tossed aside the question as he stood up and walked over. He threw the blanket over her shoulders. “How can I be of service, boss?” He yawned. 

Casca paused as she slowly grabbed the edges of the blanket and drew it around her shoulders. A caring act from him? Now it seemed to sink in. It seemed ridiculous that she even thought about running through a giant rainstorm to yell at Guts and for what? Some satisfaction that would help her calm down? She felt much calmer … in this strange tent. 

“I uh…” She paused. Usually she found her words. This time it was different. Her brain sat empty. The rain sure did something to her. “I wanted to ask about your father.” She asked quickly as she raised her neck. “I told you my story. That time under the tree..” Her voice quieted as she remembered that faint memory. “It’s only fair you share yours.” 

Guts sat on his cot wearing his tan colored pants. Terribly torn through use that he didn’t bother getting a new pair. He eyed Casca warily. Of course, that faint memory lingered in his brain. When he held her close to rid her of her fever. The tides had changed and that time he saved her life. It seemed like such a long time ago, he thought to himself. He mentally shook his brain to focus on the present. It seemed she came here for a different reason but decided not to bring it up. He snickered, “I know for a fact that you didn’t come here to ask me about my past. Sit down why don’t you. You’re shaking like a leaf.” 

He was right. Casca sat on a worn chair and wrapped the blanket around her. So he had caught her little act. “It’s about… this afternoon. When you came to tell me about the storm…” She shivered. “I just… I wasn’t expecting you to show up so suddenly.” 

“That’s all?” Guts gave a small chuckle. “You’re so childish. In a good way. Letting yourself go is what keeps most of us sane. I do all the time while I’m up on that hill.” He gave a small shrug, “I just don’t do it as dramatic as you.” 

Casca’s eyes traveled over Guts’ face. Searching his emotions for some sort of sarcasm. This had to be a joke. His eyes met hers and she shivered as she saw them flicker. He was sincere. 

“Look if you think you should be embarrassed by what happened, don’t be. I mean for Midland’s sake I saw you naked!” 

“SHUT UP!” Casca stood up as she threw the blanket in his face. Her cheeks stung as she felt the world close in around her. Of course Guts didn’t have a bone in his body that screamed normal. All he did was make fun of her. Her arms crossed over her chest as she pouted in anger. The beast was back to normal. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Huffing with annoyance she marched out of his tent and back out into the rain. 

Guts chuckled to himself as he laid back down on his cot. The blanket was sopping wet so he tossed it aside. His brain processed what happened and the vivid memory of Casca’s body next to his sent Guts’ heart thudding once more. “And I liked what I saw.” He mumbled as his eyes closed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> MORE IS COMIN I SWEARRRRR


	3. Tearful Desires

The day arrived very very slowly. Everyone woke up too see the campsite in complete disarray from the storm. They welcomed the sun with delight as each soldier began their morning. Griffith left the camp with a small band of bodyguards to the southwest. Casca was busier in this moment as she began to organize the camp. Today was her last day training with Guts. Then her little prodigy would spread his wings and become a sentient poet. She chuckled at the thought of Guts wearing tights and a puffy vest.

Guts padded across the camp looking disheveled and out of focus. His hair was sticking up, more than usual. He got a couple of laughs from some of the soldiers. Giving them the “Guts Glare” they immediately went back to work. He walked into Casca’s tent and saw her writing more papers. Her desk was covered in them. Her normal attire was replaced with her armor.

“Didn’t get much beauty sleep I see?” Casca smirked as she flipped her quill against the paper.

“Hgh.” Guts grunted as he sat down with a giant flop. This chair was oddly comfy. “Just a few more minutes.” He whispered to himself as he closed his eyes.

“CORKUS!” Casca shouted as loud as she could muster. The lanky male scuttled in. A little bit frightened.

“Y-Y-Yeah boss?!”

“Take over my duties for the day. I’m preoccupied with another important task that Griffith assigned me.” She gathered up all her paperwork and shoved it in Corkus’ grasp. She gave him a small pat on the back and marched off. Corkus gave an annoying sigh as he glared at Guts.

“You had something to do with this… I can feel it.” His large pointy nose twitched as he sniffed violently. He marched away without hearing Guts’ reply. If there was going to be one. Guts stayed put for a moment but decided it was time to meet his maker.

Hands shoved in pockets, his eyes pierced the site in front of him. Casca was nowhere to be found. What was she planning? He sighed as he stared at the blue sky above. The hill beckoned him. He plodded along. Up the slow incline to the large tree that kissed the sky. He placed his back behind the tree as he chuckled.

“Funny. Finding you here. Seems almost ironic.”

"Just thought I'd get a second opinion up here. Ya know since..." She paused for a second as a gust of wind blew. The valley below them looked alive. Tents blew, grass swayed, and giant puffy clouds dotted the sky. "It feels nice up here. Feeling like your bigger than the world. Like you belong." 

Guts slid next to her and crossed his arms. "This place makes me feel like I belong. I mean the Band of the Hawk has... and you have..." Guts' voice trailed as he gave her a sideways glance. 

Casca looked up at him and gave a groan. "Getting soft on me, Guts?" Baffled at the response Guts widened his eyes. 

"N-NO!" Once he saw her laugh he furrowed his eyebrows. "I should say the same thing to you, smart ass."

She shook her head as she gave his shoulder a quick pat. "Don't worry I won't say anything to Griffith. Now, let's go write!" 

Guts watched her march down the hill towards the campsite. Giving a quick sigh he followed the short captain. A small smile greeted his lips. 

 

They found their way back to the forest. This time wandering farther into the dense thicket. They found a bubbling brook that seemed to both please them. Guts carried all the supplies and Casca had a worn book in her fingers. The pair settled close to the edge of the stream. Everything was a stunning green. The forest smelled of rebirth, whatever that smells like. It was truly peaceful. Casca gave a content sigh as she flipped open her book and started to read it’s contents.

Guts followed suit as he dipped the quill in the well. His amber eyes focused on the scene before him. Small twisting brook that flowed deeper into the forest. Some reeds flowed with the water. He spotted a stunning wildflower growing next to the base of the tree.

Guts wrote, "Forest. Trees. Flower. RIVER? Oh there’s Casca? Wait how do I spell Cahsca? Cosca… CAHSCUH … Kasku?"

Guts paused for a moment. His heart stilled in his chest as the world fell silent. It was hard to focus on the task at hand when his eyes looked towards Casca. A woman who hid her identity behind a thick wall of defense. Somehow he had broken through that wall and had seen an innocent female who had a calm serenity. Her dark brown locks blew gently in the faint wind. Almost hinting that her hair was red as the sun toyed with her tresses. An emotion sprung up his throat as he tried to swallow it back.

He cared for her. More than anything in the world. He admired her passion. Her will to follow Griffith to the very end. Her loyalty. She seemed so close as her eyes followed the page. His voice was deep with thought as he spoke.

“My father…” He paused as he felt his throat pinch together. Casca’s eyes widened as she looked at Guts. Completely astonished that he was opening himself up now. Her ears attentive. “Gambino, he was a mercenary captain. His wife found me under a tree hanging with corpses. I wriggled in blood. She took care of me while he looked on.” Guts put down his quill and broke eye contact with Casca as he tried to find the words. “She died from sickness a few years later. I was just a child when Gambino brought me to battle. Forcing me to hold his sword. I grew up… wanting to please him. I believed he was my father. He treated me like I was a dog and nothing more.” Guts’ voice fell silent as he felt his heart stir in his chest. There was a long pause. His eyes ranged the tree line as he tried to gather his thoughts. "The scar..." He pointed to the bridge of his nose. The one scar that never seemed to fade away. "His sword grazed my nose. It wasn't a dinner plate." 

His face seemed to pale at the sheer memory. Casca’s heart broke as she reached over and placed her hand on top of his. Guts had lived that painful sin for years. So it seemed no matter how high you build that mental wall, there’s still a small hole that can send it toppling down. Warm and soft. He seemed to calm with that one gesture she performed. She … cared? His blurry eyes looked into hers. Looking at her with his walls down felt different.

“Gambino lost a leg and wasn’t the same since. He came to my tent in a rage and I killed him. I was chased off and continued fighting small battles. Alone with no one by my side. I was terrified of contact of being around other people. I cared for one thing and that was the sword on my back.” His eyes seemed paler than normal. The fire she usually saw was now just embers. “It’s all I could trust…”

“Guts…” Casca murmured as she scooted closer to the large male. “Y-You didn’t have to tell me. If it hurts you this bad.”

Guts chuckled as he felt her body next to his. “It’s weird. 3 days ago you hated me. Now I told you my past and you’re holding my hand.” His voice trailed off as he placed his other hand on hers. “I just… feel … complete.” Their eyes met in that small moment. Guts' tears were small and fragile as they slid down his cheeks. She desperately wanted to brush them away.

Casca blushed at the sentence. “I just didn’t know that a man like you could write so…” She lost her train of thought as her memory faded to the words he had practiced yesterday. All those words he had been spelling out in careful detail. She didn’t want Guts to feel discouraged. Especially not in this moment. What words could she use? “Seeing you try new things. I didn't know you had it in you. I thought you just liked to swing swords.” She gave a slight smile as her hands began to shake a little. His hands were massive compared to hers. Almost hiding her hand completely.

There was a small pause as the two stared at each other. An intense emotion seemed to be building up. Guts' chest felt like it was about to burst. The girl he admired was right next to him. His eyes filled with desire as he longed to cling to her.  _Something to hold onto,_ Guts thought to himself. Something that wasn't his sword or this quill in his fingers. 

Then he sank into regret. All the things he had done... or could do. Unimaginable. Casca had a better chance of finding what she wanted without him next to her. Blood stained his fingertips and not the black swirly ink. He felt the world get smaller and smaller until he let go of Casca's hand. He desperately wanted to grasp her tiny fingers and never let go. He looked at her once more, her small plump lips, thin nose, and stunning dark eyes. 

“You're planning something aren't you?" Casca retorted as she stared at male next to her. 

"UHH!" Guts quickly turned away as his face flushed pink.  _Shit she almost saw me,_ he thought. "No-no-no." 

"Let me see what you wr-" 

"NO!" Guts grabbed the paper from her hands and the ink spilled everywhere. Black dots of ink splattered in the air as the writing desk was flipped over. The paper Guts had written had flown into the air and landed in the creek before them. 

Casca shrieked at the contact from Guts and also from the ink staining her armor. What was happening?! Her mind raced with someway to process the whole ordeal. 

“You look like you got attacked by a ghost!” The female bursted out in laughter as Guts stared at her with a blank expression.

“Oh you think so?” He crossed his arms and looked down at his clothes. A big black ink spot stained his pants and some of it had flicked onto his shirt. “This was my favorite shirt!” He howled in annoyance as he gave Casca a funny look. Slowly but surely his act gave up and he began to laugh too.  
His laugh was something she hadn’t heard at all. It was sweet. “OH no your writing!” Casca saw the paper floating down the creek. 

“It was garbage anyway.” Guts replied as he began to take off his boots.

“WHAT ARE YO-” Casca shrieked as Guts jumped into the stream.

“I’m not letting my pants get ruined.” Guts pouted as he began to rub the cloth with his fingers. The stream seemed deeper now that Guts stood in it. The rain sure had come at a convenient time for Guts to use the brook as a washing machine. She watched Guts furiously rub his pants but to no avail. “Blood is so much easier to get off!” He shouted back to the female.

“You need a new pair!”

“EH?” Guts looked at her confusingly. “I can’t let these pants go! They might as well be considered lucky!”

“Guts come on. There’s still time, we can go to town and see if we can find you a pair.”

Guts turned around. A frown creased his face. Casca was right. The fabric was thin enough from constant usage. “You want to come with me?” He stepped closer to the bank and gave Casca a smirk.

She furrowed her eyebrows as she glared at him. “Don’t you try anything this time. I know you are up to something.” She pointed at him.

Guts stepped back onto land. His pants dripping wet. He faced her and gave her an evil grin. “Pah I was trying to ruin your ‘expensive’ armor.” He cackled as he ran away.

Casca growled as a deep blush tickled her cheeks. Her hands balled up into fists as she chased after him. “GET BACK HERE YOU TWIT!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heh you thought you I was done? YOU THOUGHT WRONG! The kids will be happy in this fanfic and ya'll can't stop me. CATCH THEM FEELS AND BE READY TO CELEBRATE THEIR LOVE! Chapter 4 is in the works plez enjoyyyyyy muwahahhahaa


	4. The Library on Top of the Hill

A small town sat on top of a large hill. It’s walls were poorly built. Houses in disarray but it’s people were in high spirits. The Band of the Hawk had agreed to camp nearby if any enemies were to appear they would help. In return the village let the mercenaries walk among their streets in peace. Drinking in the taverns, socializing with the townsfolk, and helping commerce by bartering. Guts had been in the small town of Pendle a few times. Gaston had urged Guts to go drinking at the tavern with him and a few comrades. There wasn’t anything spectacular about it.

“We should’ve taken horses.” Casca retorted as she wiped a drip of sweat from her forehead.

“Says the one who was wearing armor.” Guts threw his arms over his head as stretched his back. “Nothing beats a nice walk. If you’re having problems walking you should be training more.” He flexed his arms a little bit. Not to show off or anything.

“Sometimes wearing armor is called for. You have too look sharp when you are in charge you know. Since you splattered ink all over it I have to clean it.” Her armor was neatly packaged in a bundle. She could clean it herself but since they were going to town. She gave a quick sigh as she trudged past Guts and into the peaceful town of Pendle. Immediately she set off in search of a tailor. Guts followed her but his attention was elsewhere.

The blacksmith had set up a small stall right past the gate to lead mercenary soldiers right to it’s shopfront. It attracted the male and he sauntered over. His eyes perused the wares. “I’ve never tried using a hammer…Although, this saber would be good for Casca.” He mumbled to himself as he tried to picture Casca using a new weapon. "Or ... a battle axe!" His mind floated in a slight daydream as he remembered a few hours ago. Everything from before seemed almost a dream. She was slowly letting loose. “Hm.” He said to himself.

“GUTS!” Casca shouted. Her hair all in a tizzy as she marched over and grabbed his hand, practically dragging him away from the booth. “I thought we were coming here for pants. NOT A NEW SWORD!”

“I-I was just looking.” Guts pleaded as he kept trying to look back towards the blacksmiths’ booth. Casca growled as she pointed at a booth up ahead.

The booth was filled with clothes. Everything was all right there. “Excuse me!” Casca tried to get the attention of the lady who was selling the clothing items. “I need a new pair of trousers for this man.” The woman eyed Guts up and down. Her face said it all as she gulped.

“Dearie… I may have to have a custom pair made for him. I’ve never seen anyone that tall!”

“AHEM!” Guts coughed as he narrowed his eyes at the lady. “I’m standing right here.”

Casca huffed, “Right. Anyway, how long will it take, do you think?” The lady gave another look. They waited patiently as the seller stepped out of her booth to examine him closer.

“A few hours I suppose. I have some extra fabric lying around that I was going to use.” She paused as a tiny grin filled her cheeks. “For an extra fee of course.”

“Anything to get this toad a new pair.” Casca reached for her coinpurse and gave her 5 gold pieces.

“M-M-May I take your measurements? I’d hate to give you trousers that don’t fit.” She fiddled with the 5 gold pieces frantically. Guts complied and stepped into her booth to get measured. Casca watched the whole scene unfold. It was strange seeing him get confused by what was going on. She chuckled a couple of times. “What happened here?” The old woman asked as she pointed to the black ink stain on his thigh.

“A ghost.” Guts snickered as the woman hurriedly completed her task and ushered him away.

“Come back in a few hours. It’ll be ready by then!”

The pair waved them off as they set their eyes on the town before them. “Was I too mean to her?” Guts asked as he gave a snarky grin.

“It's not being mean, it's just you being stupid, you dolt.” Casca retorted as she rolled her eyes. 

Guts ignored the last sentence as he brushed some 'dirt' from his shirt. “So what now boss. You wanna stay here in this dump of a village?”

“It’s not a dump. Lemme show you.” She urged him with a flick of a finger. They wandered the village, twisting through alleys and ending up near the edge of a village. A large house stood at the very top of the hill. Pendle was just a sea of houses below. Far beyond the town’s walls was the vast green prairie. Even the Band of the Hawk could be seen from this height.

Guts instantly felt welcome in this area. Even if he didn’t have a tree to nap under there was this house. Plain colored but every window had a candle flickering. A thatched roof covered the house. Stone steps climbed even higher to the front door. Even the wood smelled rich. Casca was already at the front door. A plump elderly gentleman answered the door. A long grey beard snaked down his chin and big glasses perched on his nose. “Oh Casca! Glad to see you. Do come in.” They followed the stout man through the house to the back. Ornate wood carved into the wooden banisters, beautiful paintings on the walls, it all seemed like a dream.

He pushed open a pair of double doors to a very large room. A high ceiling that was covered in bookshelves. Even the room smelled strangely of books. “How on earth?” Guts asked curiously as he stepped further into the walled room.

“I used to collect books. Most of these were my fathers. Before the war ravaged the countryside, I had people flock to this small remote village to read some of these ancient tomes. Not anymore. Casca’s been a regular attendee and we have many a good talk.”

“Sir Pendle is a trader that helps ship items from town to town. I met him by pure happenstance and I’m glad I did. The town is named after his heritage. Lucky fellow. Go ahead Guts.” She urged the fellow to start browsing the titles. Getting familiar in the world of literature. There was more to it than just words on paper.

It took a while for Guts to adjust to this sort of atmosphere. The room was oddly quiet. The floorboards creaked under his feet, the curtains smelled like dust, but the bookshelves were spotless. Not a speck of dust lay on their surfaces. Shining in the faint candlelight. He paused as he settled on a book title called The Art of Fencing. Long fingers pulled it off the shelf and he flipped it open to a random page. Now this was interesting. There were books about fighting!

The sound of the floorboards awakened his senses. They came from the other side of the bookshelf. He pushed some books aside and saw the top of Casca’s head. She hadn’t seen him yet. Lowering himself to the next shelf he slid them away, slowly and carefully. An evil grin greeted his lips as he saw Casca’s eyes roving over a large tome. Gentle and soft. Without her armor she looked small, vulnerable. A leaf green tunic now adorned her body. The sleeves rolled up to expose her forearms. The beast was calm and serene. A sight Guts rarely saw. His heart throbbed in his chest. He couldn’t look away.

Casca gave an innocent smile as she flipped to the next page. He looked away. He could never. That imaginative kiss in the forest was a mistake. She didn’t like him, she couldn’t. There was a reason she was in the Band of the Hawk, for Griffith. Not for some low life like him. Yet he showed her a side he couldn’t even show Griffith. She did the same. Seeing her twirl around the forest like a young child.

At the mere thought of that memory he flipped open the book and shoved his face into it. Hiding the quite visible flush on his cheeks. He walked away from Casca's shelf and meandered towards one of the large windows where there was more light. "Fencing... a gallant and daring sport for any and all who ... wish to..." He paused as he tried to understand the word before him. 

He knew swinging his massive great sword was all he knew. Fencing however intrigued him. The blade looked like a twig that you could snap with your pinkie finger. He chuckled at the thought of holding something that tiny. 

The sound of Guts laughing caught Casca's attention out of her book she stumbled upon. She was too engulfed in this beautiful story. Peering around the bookshelves she spotted him standing next to one of the windows. His mouth moving silently, as he tried to pronounce the words in front of him. His eyes squinting angrily at the text before him. She paused as she took in the sight. Those large hands now held onto a book, ever so gently. His long fingers trailing down the text as his eyes dashed back and forth on the document. 

She walked towards him with a hesitant gait. The thought crossed her mind of the event that took place that morning. Something was going on with this strange male. She stepped up and tapped him on the shoulder. "What are you reading?" 

Casca's wide eyes met his. Guts growled in annoyance as he tapped the book. "This word?" His finger pointed to the page. "D-u-e-l?"

"Duel. It's a thing men in fancy getups with big feather hats do. Not the thing for you." Casca stated with a tiny chuckle. Amusing herself with a faint thought of Guts wearing a flamboyant hat, she brushed it away. 

"What did you find?" Guts asked as he peered down into her hands. 

"Just a little story that I come and read every so often. About a knight who protects his princess. He's incredibly loyal to her and protects her through many dark battles." She pauses for a moment as her eyes rest on the window. Her voice growing fainter as she grasps the book in her hands. "The knight sees her becoming queen and her marriage as well. The loyalty disappears as he wished the princess would marry her. After all he did for her." She gulps as turns her back away from Guts. "I haven't finished it. Endings are never my taste anyway." She laughed nervously as she turned back to look at Guts. His face said it all. He was still processing the whole thing. 

"People write that garbage?" 

Casca smiled as she nodded. "Yes, unfortunately." 

"Hey," Guts stopped her before she disappeared amid the bookshelves once more. "How ... do you spell your name?" 

She turned ever so slowly. She rested the book on the shelf and took his hand. A finger began to draw on his hand as she spelled out her name. “C-a-s-c-a. Casca.”

“Casca.” He mumbled. His voice, deep and raspy as he felt her name tickle his tongue. It felt oddly strange to murmur her name. Now he knew how to spell it. He kept a mental note as Casca disappeared down a different section. This time the covers were dyed bright colors in various hues of oranges and blues. They were significantly smaller and well worn. The ink was smudged in several sections of each book that Guts opened. 

"These are weirdly written? Who's Gavin?" Guts stared at this little booklet. His eyebrows wiggled in concentration. "Gavin: TO ME MY LORD! THE CASTLE IS AFIRE!" He said it with a booming voice.

"Oh you stumbled on the theater section." Casca stifled a laugh as she walked back to Guts. "Pendle has a small section of plays from traveling troupes and such. This one in particular is called 'The Battle of Reeve's Cathedral. Ah must be a melodrama." 

Guts stared at Casca with a blank expression as he set the book back down and reached for another. "CATARINA! MY LOVE! EAT FROM MY PLATE AND TELL ME MY LOVE FOR THEE IS AS STRONG AS THE FOUR WINDS!" Guts' face went pale until he began to laugh. "WHAT IN THE HELL IS THIS?" His face lit up in a rupture of laughter as he gripped his stomach. Casca ripped the book from his hands and she continued the play as Catarina. 

"Edmund... I cannot eat much more. You have satisfied me beyond any measure. I love you to the 5 winds!" Guts followed suit as he grabbed the script back. 

"Catarina. I believe that the amount of food has gotten to thine wonderful head. Come let us go outside and get some fresh air." Guts wiggled his eyebrows in anticipation as he flipped the page. "I could imagine Pippin doing this." 

"Pippin? You think he'd act?"

"Maybe. If he learned how to blink." Guts smirked as he flipped through the rest of the book. His lips pursed together as he stared at the floor in deep thought. "I have an idea. Come on let's go." Guts grabbed Casca's hand as he lead her out of the library. 

"W-Wait where are we going?" Her eyes glowed with excitement. Guts paused for a moment as he gave a cheeky grin. 

"You know how those fencers wore big flamboyant hats?" He raised his eyebrows and gave a chuckle. That was all he seemed to say as Casca continued to follow him down the trailing hill to Pendle. Villagers milled around by the stores as the sun hit it's zenith. The town was coming to life. 

"I'm still confused." Casca stated as she planted her feet, stopping Guts from going any further. "You need to tell me now!" 

"Fine. Fine! Just give me a minute." He wandered back to the store where his new pants were getting sewed. "WHAT THE-!" He shouted as he entered the ramshackle building. "CASCA!!!" Guts screamed as he came out holding a pair of pants that was... let's just say, not Guts' style. "GREEN? GREEN FUCKING PANTS? WHAT AM I SOME GREMLIN UNDER A BRIDGE?" 

"That's the cloth I had!" The lady at the counter's face was bright white as she gulped in fear. "I-I-If you n-n-need me too I c-c-can fix you another pair!" 

His eyes flamed up with annoyance as he looked at the pants once again. "You'd best do that." The male growled as he stomped his way over to Casca. "Well you did pay for this." He gave a sigh as he stared at the village around him. The people had heard him screaming at the tailor and now he felt like an outcast. "I uh, wanted to do a big party. With a big drinking contest, we could've preformed his play, I would've had a few fist fight contests... I guess not. We are different than normal people." Guts gripped the fabric in his hands as he turned to walk out of the village. 

"No... we aren't. We can be normal." Casca's neck perked up as she ran over to the fruit seller and grabbed a barrel. She rolled it to the center of the road and stood atop it. Her voice loud and booming as it echoed off the walls of the houses, "People of Pendle! The Band of the Hawk would like to hold a giant festival! There'll be drinking, plenty of food, joyous laughter, and happiness! Things a lot of people are in dire need of. Come to the camp at sundown! Spread the word for all to hear!" Her eyes met Guts' and instantly her heart melted. The sadness in his eyes were gone but instead filled with pure delight. She gave him a firm nod as she hopped off the barrel. Racing towards Guts she grabbed his hand, "come on big oaf we got a lot of work to do." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bam bam where's your fam now??? OHOHOHOOO it will be party time. Be prepared for rambunctious kiddos running around >:3

**Author's Note:**

> More is coming and I've got some plans. This has been something I've been trying to finish for a very long time but hope you enjoy c:


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